Parting Gift
by jeromevaleska
Summary: You're a regular at the circus and you're the only girl that catches Jerome's eye.
1. Parting Gift

You had been a regular at Haly's circus, you visited as often as you could especially after a certain ginger caught your attention. You lied to yourself and your friends almost every time about why you went there so frequently, saying, "I just go there for the big shows and the rides," which was clearly a lie. Seeing the way his eyes lit up and his grin when he saw you made each trip there completely worth it.

You made your way around the circus grounds, half looking for something to do and half looking for the ginger. You ended up playing a game of ring toss after wandering for a little while, and sadly you ran out of time before you could win a prize. You played a couple more games before heading off to one of the popcorn booths. You bought a small sized one and then left to a bench, munching on the popcorn.

"Hey gorgeous!" you suddenly heard a voice behind you and you whipped your head back to the sound of it, which you immediately recognized. It was just the boy you were looking for.

"Hi!" you waved to him and smiled, trying to conceal your excitement and play it cool. He took a seat next to you and grabbed a handful of the popcorn, filling his mouth with it. You looked at him with a slight annoyed expression.

"Um, you're welcome?" you raised an eyebrow and he just laughed in response.

"So what brings you here? Did you miss me?" he ignored your comment and winked at you, scooting closer to you on the bench.

"Missed you? What gave you that impression?" you asked, your cheeks flushing up.

"Doll, you visit this place once a week on average. Don't you get bored of those repetitive games? Something is making you want to come back." he emitted a playful chuckle and grinned.

"Maybe I just like the circus." you said, shrugging your shoulders.

"You know, I like having you around here, you're a breath of fresh air in this dump." he sneered and wrapped his arm around your shoulder, pulling you even closer to him. You blinked upon the gesture, looking back at him with a small smile.

"Really? I bet you say that to all the cute girls." you guessed.

"What other cute girls exactly?" he asked, with a hand on his chin and tilt of his head, "I only have eyes for you, gorgeous." he winked.

"Don't play dumb." your cheeks lit up when he said that, but you reminded yourself to keep your composure.

"You know, I think we are close enough to visit one another outside of this place. I can be a lot of fun." he traced his fingers around the shape of your leg, his eyes coated with lust. You weren't sure of how to answer him so you just swallowed and nodded your head. He leaned in close to your ear and he was about to whisper something, but a woman shouted his name from afar.

"Jerome! Get over here! Stop slacking off!" she called out, her voice croaking.

"That's my bitch of a mother. Gotta go, but stick around, I won't be long." he pulled away from your ear and growled to himself. You noticed the immediate change of mood when his mother showed up.

"Okay, I will. See you around." you waved as he walked away to his mother.

You waited longer than you should have for him, but he didn't return. You felt pathetic for listening to what he said as you made your way back home. But because you liked him so much, you decided to give him the benefit of the doubt. His mom didn't seem like the nicest woman around, so you figured she was why he couldn't come back. The ginger seemed to grow very fond of you overtime, he flirted with you every chance he got, and he would always take a break from whatever he was doing just to spend some time with you. You couldn't help but wonder what he was going to tell you before his mother interrupted, it was certainly convenient timing.

The next week, you came back to the circus. You decided to follow your usual routine, playing the same games and eating the same snacks, it was starting to get repetitive just like he said. When you noticed the ginger, he was with an elderly blind man who looked like he was scolding him. Jerome was nodding his head, acting like he was listening when the whole time he had his eyes on you, unable to stop himself from gazing at you. You smiled at him before returning to the balloon shoot, but because you were feeling distracted, you ended up running out of time without realizing. The man at the booth shot you an odd look before saying, "Time's up."

You just apologized and placed the darts down, walking away awkwardly. You looked back to see if he was still with the old man but he wasn't, so you decided to look around, stopping by to watch one of the sideshows. You sat down on one of the chairs to observe the juggler, tossing and catching several rings above his head.

"Look what I got you!" the ginger popped up behind you, holding up his hand which was covered with a childish looking clown hand puppet. You turned around and smiled, you couldn't help but giggle when you saw his smiling face.

"Oh Jerome! You shouldn't have!" you took it from his hand and he laughed softly.

"I was watching you play that balloon shoot game and boy were you terrible at it, so thought I should get you something." he winked, there was a smug look on his face because of your reaction.

"Wow, is that your way of being charming?" you teased, "Or is that your way of saying sorry?" you asked with a change of tone in your voice. '

"About that," he trailed off, "I got swamped with some drudgery. But I'm available now, all for you, gorgeous." he smirked and bowed dramatically before you. "Forgive me?"

"I guess so." you looked back down at the puppet, "You're lucky you came with a gift, otherwise I wouldn't have forgave you."

"I knew you'd like it." he winked, stepping closer to you, "You know, I've missed you, doll." he mentioned, you looked back at him and giggled.

"Well, if you missed me so much, then you should prove it by actually saying my name." you sassed.

"Y/N, it is." he chuckled as he took your hand in his. "Say, why don't we get out of here? It's getting a little noisy."

"Where to?" you asked, you wondered if it was a good idea. You two had this flirting game going on, but at the same time you realized you didn't know him that well, though you couldn't deny that's what made things exciting with him.

"Come with me and I'll show you." he gripped your hand and led the way, that grin never leaving his face. You could hear your heart thumping like crazy, every time you visited him at the circus and all his flirtatious encounters with you all led up to this moment. He took you to a small tent and he threw the flap open to it, letting you step inside first before he entered.

"No one should be here for a while, so we can get to know each other better." he lifted your hand up to his lips and left a small kiss on it before he pulled it away.

"For a while? How much is a while? Could we get in trouble if someone caught us in here?" you asked, looking about the tent. His eyes were shining in the dim light cast by the lantern sitting by a bedroll.

"Don't take the fun out of it, gorgeous. No one's going to bother us, they have their own shit to worry about." he reassured, his eyes were looking you up and down, and you automatically knew what he was thinking because they were practically undressing you right then and there.

"Good, that's comforting. So I was wondering something." you started but then paused briefly, he waited for you to continue. "What did you want to tell me the last time I visited? I know it seems kind of silly to mention it because it was a while ago, but I'm a little curious what it was." you stood there, wearing your false confidence in the best way possible.

"Hm, oh that." he smirked and looked down for a second before his eyes wandered back to you, "I like you. You make me look forward to working here, as long as I get to see that pretty smile." he admitted and you instantly smiled upon hearing the words come out of his mouth. "See? That's what I'm talking about. And your laugh, it's the cutest thing." you giggled as if right on cue.

"I like you too." you confessed, "You're cute, for a ginger."

"I'll take that as a compliment." he chuckled. "I knew you weren't here for the games or the wacky performers, you're looking for more excitement than that." he inched closer and he took your chin in his hand, his index finger rubbing the bottom of it, his breath was following yours and he was about to kiss you, a kiss that would break all this childish teasing but he didn't. He pulled away and you nearly emitted a sigh of disappointed but then he said, "But the circus is traveling to Gotham next week, so I won't be around. I'm going to miss you." he pouted.

"Wait what? Next week? That sucks." you replied, it was all you could manage to say. It suddenly hit you how much you would miss him. You almost forgot that they traveled often and what you two had was temporary. As much as you had been trying to compose yourself when you were around him, what would be the point if you couldn't see him anymore?

"It's a shame. I'm sure we'll come back here eventually, but it'll be a while. That was the other thing I was going to tell you, until that bitch came around." he said in a growl, his tone always changed when the subject of his mother came up.

"I'll miss you." you uttered, almost in a whisper. You caught his attention when you said that, and there was that look again in his eye.

"Really? I might miss you too." he jested before saying in a softer tone, "I wish I could take you with me." he stepped closer to you again, his body nearly pressing up against yours. That last sentence was it. You knew you needed him. You held your breath and decided that there was no point in waiting anymore. You were willing to give him everything and you told yourself to finally let go of the voice inside your head that was holding you back. He noticed that you were feeling conflicted and he was about to say something until you grasped both of his cheeks, taking his lips with yours swiftly. You pressed into his body until you closed the space between you two, your hips knocking together. You could feel a smirk quirk at the corner of his lips as you kissed him and suddenly his hand slipped beneath the hem of your shirt, a shiver rolling up your spine and over your shoulders as he aimlessly ran your fingers on your skin. You let your eyes drift shut as you simultaneously tugged him forward by his sweater.

He groans as soon as your mouth opens against his, stumbling forward like he just can't help himself. The hand against the small of your back is firm and warm and keeps you from barreling in to the tent he now has you pressed against, but just barely. His other hand cups your neck and angles his head to the side, chasing your mouth with his. His tongue drags along your bottom lip as you slip your hands over his shoulders and into his hair, holding on for dear life because you feel like you're spinning when you tilt your head and slide your tongue against his in a wet slide.

He pulls away from your mouth and you gasp when he drags his teeth along your jaw, nipping lightly at the place behind your ear. You started making embarrassing loud panting sounds as he tongues your earlobe and you shift against him, spreading your legs a bit and encouraging his thigh to rest between them. You pressed your hips down and he groans, forehead dropping to rest against your collarbone.

"Do you know how long I've been waiting for this? I've been crazy about you since the first day I saw you. I couldn't ever stop thinking about you, no matter how hard I tried." he breathed out, leaving kisses across your collarbone.

"I-I felt the same way, and that's why I always had to see you." you stuttered, feeling red-faced right when the words came out.

"You're beautiful, Y/N, and you have a way about you. " he murmured, grinning as he slid one hand from the small of your back to your ass, squeezing gently. He presses a kiss to your neck when your hips jump up against his, and he emitted a chuckle in the space between your neck and shoulder. He rolls your blouse up with a hand, only to find that you weren't wearing a bra underneath and he couldn't help but laugh. "Hm, just what I thought. I noticed that right away."

You swallowed a gulp and giggled to try to ease your nervousness. He lowers his head down and his mouth stills on the swell of your breath, your fingers anchored in his hair, his teeth biting just enough for your back to arch against the fabric of the tent. He doesn't move when you do though and after a couple of moments of silence, your heavy breaths echoed in the ill-lit tent between you two, and he leaned back up.

"Let's move this down here, shall we?" he smirked as he led you to the bedroll and you laid back on it. His eyes almost glow in the light of the room and he climbs on top of you, his hands pressed on either side of your hips, his mouth hovering over yours. The heat that was prickling just beneath your skin turns into a steady thrum and you drop your head back a bit, your nose glancing along his jaw.

You have trouble focusing when he shifts his body over yours, guiding your back until you're sprawled out once again beneath the bedroll. He lets out a soft sigh when your noses bump together, lips millimeters apart. You shift your legs so his knees can rest between them, hips falling in line. He ruts against you once and you suck in a sharp breath, your hands finding purchase in his hair. He starts nibbling beneath your ear, teeth scraping while you bite the inside of your cheek.

"Is this your first time?" he asked suddenly and you shook your head in response. "Hm, so how do you like it?" he cocked an eyebrow, his seductive stare was distracting so it took you a couple of moments to think up an answer.

"Don't ask, just fuck me already." you said in an impatient tone. Heat pulsed low in your belly and the ache between your thighs is fierce and sharp now.

"You're kinky, I'm learning so much about you so fast." he said with a chuckle. You start to feel like you're heart is going to beat right out of your chest. You pull back with a gasp and he immediately goes to work on your clothes, pulling down your blouse with a forceful tug, nearly ripping it off and then attaching his mouth to the hollow of your throat. You utter a helpless little noise caught in the back of your throat when his hand cups your breast. He echoes it when he drags his thumb over your nipple. It's like a flip has been switched within him once you said what you wanted. His mouth was eager as he sucked small bruises down your chest, grunting in frustration.

"This is my first time, with you. I want to savor it so if you could be a little patient." he jested and you just rolled your eyes playfully.

His sweater is soft against your bare skin and you glanced at your side to see your shirt over the lantern in the corner, making the room even more subdued. His gaze heated as he trails his hand over your breast, spreading his fingers as he glides his hand down to your belly and then back up again. He pinches your nipple and your back arches, chasing the feeling, the pounding between your legs thrumming in time with the stroke of his fingers. You drag your nails down the side of his sweater as he looks at you, slipping it under and feeling the stretch of his shoulders beneath hot skin. You push your hips up and he presses back down, a slow rhythm between you two where he hits you just right, his member straining against the seam of your pants.

He switches it up when you close your eyes and bite out his name, he presses down with his hips again and rolls them in a slow grind.

"Jerome," you panted out, unwilling to move your hands from the gentle pressure you have on his shifting shoulder blades as he bends his head and draws nonsense into your breast with his tongue. You press harder and he chuckles, rubbing his cheek against your nipple until you make emit an embarrassing gasping sound and softly utter, "Fuck."

Encouraged, his wandering hand slides to the edge of your pants, toying with the fabric there as you hook your ankle around the back of his knee. You feel like you're on fire, beads of sweat at the hollow of your throat and between your breasts. He suddenly moves his hand underneath your pants and underwear, the pad of his thumb circling your clit vigorously.

"You're so wet, don't worry, I'll take care of you." he assured, his smirk widening. He presses his hips to your thigh and you slip one hand down his back, around his waist to the front of his pants and you start to palm his erection. He bites out around a groan, stiffening more.

His body tenses when you use your leg around him to push down his pants, but his fingers down slow against you, his palm grinding down into your clit while his fingers press into you. You drop your other hand to his sweater and hold on tight while he works you, his mouth is back on your nipple while you stare at the ceiling of the tent and listen to the rustling leaves, the circus music faint outside. His hand is insistent against you, his mouth whispering deliciously dirty things into the space between your breasts. He bites you hard and your fingers wrap around his wrist, holding him against you in just the right stop as you rock your hips.

"Come on, and give it to me, Y/N. Don't hold anything back from me." he urged, giving your clit several sudden and quick flicks. You become a gasping and writhing mess, your nails biting into his wrist and you bury your face in his chest when you come, uttering a muffled sob. He helps you ride it out with gentle fingers and when you open your eyes again, there are no colors dancing in your field of vision. You smile softly, your shoulders relaxing.

You press the sweaty mop of his hair back that was sticking to his forehead, tracing the tip of his ear with your finger and he tilts his face, pressing a kiss to the palm of your hand. "Tell me how that felt." he whispered as you trembled a little.

"Amazing. You're amazing." you breathed out.

"Let's give you another one, how does that sound?" he chuckled, a dark hunger in his voice which made your cheeks flush up in answer. You've both waited long enough and you silently both knew what was going to happen next. Your hands reach out to grab his member, gripping it tight and stroking him until his forehead falls to the pillow beneath your head with a groan. You reached up and pressed your mouth to the skin above his sweater, sucking a mark below his collarbone. He grasps your head with his hand, tangling his fingers in your hair as you quickly made work of his pants and underwear, yanking them off together. He does the same to yours, tugging them down and tossing it to the side carelessly.

"Please fuck me now." you demanded under your breath, which made his signature grin appear on his face again. You were becoming more frustrated after all the teasing, you needed him now.

"Hold on tight, Y/N." he purred. You rose your hands up to grab his shoulders, gripping on them tightly as he said. He presses into you, whispering your name between clenched teeth as you spread your legs wider to accommodate him. He's thick and heavy inside of you and when he's fully settled, you squeeze his shoulders, his hips pressed tight to your own as you rotate them together. You lean up to brush your lips against his neck as he gives you an experimental rock of his hips that you answer with your teeth grazing against his skin.

"Fuck, you feel so incredible." he said in a loud whisper.

"Mhm, Jerome." you breathed out as his hand drifted down your body to lift your thigh higher around his hips. He keeps it there, holding you steady as he rocks once, twice, and then a third time until you arch your back and grit out a desperate, "Don't stop."

"I had no intention of stopping, gorgeous." he answered with a curl of his lip. The bedroll around you two is brushing against the sides of the tent every time he thrusts his hips against yours. He catches your clit on every downward grind and you can feel it sparking again, under your skin, that wild thrum. "I've thought about this more times than I can count." he said lowly, his palm sliding from your thigh to your ass and then he angled your hips up, grinning when he slides deeper and you moan out his name.

"Me too." you whispered as he picked up his pace. His hips jumping against yours as you gripped tighter on his shoulders. Your legs are already shaking around his hips and you know that it won't take long now, the hand on your ass sliding to where they're joined. He used a few rough, felicitous swipes of his thumb along your clit and you let yourself go in that moment.

He emits a gasp above you, his chest rubbing over your nipples, and your hips frantic. His mouth is slanted over yours as he chases his high while drawing out your own. His hand moves to grasp your ass, his fingers digging into your cheeks. He utters your name in a low whisper against the skin of your neck when he comes, your entire body stilling above you, a few slow jumpy strokes of his hips before he collapses. You feel disgustingly hot and sweaty beneath him but you don't care. You both pant together, in unison, taking one another's scent in. He has a tired glint in his eye, but he quickly gives in to the opportunity to capture your lips in another searing kiss when suddenly you start to giggle.

"What?" he asks against yours lips, smiling.

You try to stifle the last of your laughter, your cheeks reddening up. "Sorry, I just can't believe we didn't get caught. We were both pretty well, loud. And that was just, wow. That was really something." you said, your words coming out as a stuttering mess.

He huffs out a laugh as he traced his fingers around your back, just laying there with you. "Told you we wouldn't get caught, doll."

You gave him a playful look of disapproval because he knew what you thought of the nickname. There's a pause, a longer one than you would have liked, so you blurt out, "I'm going to miss you."

"Hm, are you really going to miss me or is this wet pussy doing the talking for you?" he tilted his head to the side and looked at you with an innocent pout. He gave your clit a swift flick with his finger, which made you instantly squirm.

"What? No, honestly. It's a little embarrassing to admit, but I will." you said with a soft smile and he leans in, his smirk only broadening because he's hearing exactly what he needed to hear.

"I'll come back for you. I don't think I'll be able to stay away long, especially after we just fucked." he chuckled, and every time he laughs you can't help but do the same. "You haven't seen the last of me, doll, and there's no way I'm going without you having this. Here's my number." he lowers his head back down between your legs and starts tracing numbers with slow motions of his tongue, his eyes staring up at you as you gasp loudly in surprise.

"You don't have a piece of paper around? H-How do you expect me to remember that when-oh god!" you moaned out as he continued to write his number on your clit, and you could see his eyes smiling even with yours closed tight.


	2. Grand Entrance

Your eyes scanned the headline on the newspaper with the redhead's mugshot below it. You had trouble grasping the idea of the flirtatious boy at the circus being a murderer, it caught you by surprise, to say the least. You felt your fingers tremble as you read the article and your mind wandered to the night that you two spent in the tent. He could have killed you right then and there if he wanted to. But he didn't, so you had that to be thankful for. You thought back to every time that you saw his mother yelling at him and how scornfully he talked of her. It wasn't difficult to put two and two together. Something wasn't right. As much as you wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt, you didn't know the full story and you believed that he was sent to Arkham for a reason.

You found yourself wanting to visit him but you felt pathetic even considering it. "He's a murderer." you told yourself every time you were tempted to drive your car to Arkham. You two weren't even friends, you hardly knew him, but there was still a part of you that was drawn to him. He was irresistibly charming and he always found his way to your brain when you were trying so hard to forget him. He had a way about him, unlike anyone else you've ever met. There was no denying that you two had a connection. But every time you caught yourself thinking like that, you were always quick to shut it down and remind yourself that this wasn't a healthy way to cope. You had to go on with your life and pretend that you never had feelings for the ginger, though it didn't help when you saw him in your dreams or when you started daydreaming about the time you two had sex. It was like he cursed you. You were thankful he was in Arkham, you imagined that he would spent a great deal of his life there and that meant eventually you'd be able move on, for good.

But to your surprise, he wasn't there for long, not nearly as long as he should have been. The news spread like wildfire, six inmates broke out of Arkham Asylum, the ginger included. You were watching a movie in your bedroom one evening when it got interrupted to report the breakout. You couldn't believe your ears, it wasn't possible, it couldn't be. But it was. You weren't able to fall asleep that night, all you could think about was him, and what he would do now that he was out. You hardly left the house after you heard the announcement, because you knew that there was a chance that you'd see him and the thought of him was straining enough on you.

His crimes were all over the news after the breakout, everyone in Gotham knew his name. You felt a sick feeling in your stomach when you heard what he did to several employees of Yellen Shipyard. If that wasn't a sign to stay far far away, you don't know what was. That was it for you, you had to pack up and leave. There wasn't a chance you'd be sticking around with all these criminally insane maniacs on the loose. You weren't certain where you were leaving to, you just planned on taking a taxi and going from there.

Just when you were nearly finished packing your suit cases, your door bursts open and when it does you feel like you can't breathe for a second, especially when you saw who it was; the circus boy.

"Freeze!" the ginger exclaimed, pointing a gun in your direction. You raised both of your arms above your head, your whole body shaking with fear.

"Jerome, I–" you started, but he's quick to interrupt you.

"Nuh-uh, save it." he continued to aim the gun at you as he stepped closer, grinning from ear to ear. You squeezed your eyes shut, your entire body quivering. You cursed under your breath because you shouldn't have allowed yourself to be put in this position, you should have made a run for it the day he got out. But when he shoots the gun, you only feel a squirt of cold water against your face. You slowly blink your eyes back open, only to see him cracking up.

"Ooh I got you! You were shaking like a leaf." he walks over to show you the gun, "See, it's fake. I can't believe you actually thought I was going to shoot you," he shook his head, still laughing. You scowled, turning back to your suit case and tossing a couple more essentials in it.

"You're crazy, you know that? Messing with me like that." you growled quietly to yourself, refusing to make eye contact with him.

"Some greeting," he rolled his eyes playfully, "I came back for you, just like you wanted me to," he takes a step closer, making you instinctively back away. "Where do you think you're going doll?" he raised an eyebrow, with a lopsided grin on his face.

"Somewhere far away from here and you. Please get out of my way." you said sternly, zipping up your bag hastily.

"Do you think I'm going to hurt you? Are you scared of me?" he asked, tilting his head to the side innocently.

You swallowed a gulp as you looked back at him, "Jerome, you killed your mother and now you're killing innocent people left and right, of course I'm scared. You're a criminal." you stuttered, biting on your lower lip.

"My mother was a bitch, she had what was coming to her." his brows furrowed, shrugging his shoulders, "Don't make me out to be the bad guy, any person in the right mind would have silenced that bitch. My only regret is that I didn't do it sooner," his tone changes to a raspy one, it always did when he spoke of her.

"You're scared because you think I'm this monster, correct?" he questioned and you swiftly nodded your head, trembling before him.

"Don't be scared, doll, I would never hurt you," he's smirking even wider now, "I'm not going to bite, unless of course you want me to," he reaches his hand over to cup your cheek in his hand, his fingers stroking your skin, and you emit a quiet sigh, finding yourself missing his touch. When you realize this, you quickly pull your head away from his hand. "Remember when I said that I would come back for you? I was dead serious about that."

"I'm having difficulty believing that when it's so easy for you to kill." you folded your arms over your chest, trying your best to maintain a solemn posture.

"Good point, but they aren't you, which is what makes it so easy. I like you. Sadly, I can't say the same for those other bozos." he shook his head and cackled, finding your reactions to be more than amusing. He moves closer and you immediately start taking steps back which only results in your back up against the wall and his body covering yours.

"I'm not going to hurt you, I only have your best interest at heart," he places his hand on his chest dramatically, and you avert your gaze from him because when he looks at you with those enthralling eyes you know you'll be right back at square one again.

"How can I be so sure of that?" you asked in a wavering voice.

"Well, you might not ever be sure of it, but I know you want to be. You miss me, just say it." he lifts your chin up with his hand, forcing you to look back at him.

"You want me to fuck you again, don't you?" he whispered against your skin, inching closer to your lips. You feel a shiver run down your spine, and you're already getting lost in him, his scent, his touch, his everything. "I miss your wet pussy squeezing my cock, begging me to never let go. I want that again." he continues to murmur, lowering his head down to your neck, trailing a long stripe of his saliva against your skin.

You lean your head back a little, gasping softly at the impact. You can already feel that familiar ache between your legs like when he fucked you in the tent and that's when you immediately realize that you've lost the battle of resisting him. It was futile. You wanted him, no, you needed him.

"Tell me it's not just me. I need to hear you say it. I still think about that night every single day. You were fucking perfect." his hot breath is against your neck, leaving wet kisses around every inch of it. His words are driving you crazy, you can feel yourself tightening and your skin is prickling in anticipation. "Just say the word and I'll give it to you. Your wish is my command."

"It's not just you. I need it, I need you." you gasped out softly, and he smirks against your skin instantly when you finally give him what he needs to hear. He turns his head back to you, his eyes gleam like a snake targeting prey. You see the tight quiver in the fine muscles of his face and the tension in his jaw.

You suddenly wrap your arms around his neck and pull him down for a kiss. "Take it," you tell him, licking the corner of his mouth. "Whatever you need."

"Oh I intend to," he said, his smirk widening, "Not so scared now, are you, Y/N? I would never hurt the girl who came to visit me weekly back at the circus. No, you're special—different, I like that." he said hoarsely before his lips were back on yours with even more zest, sighing into the kiss, and drawing your lips apart with his own so he could tangle his tongue with yours.

His hands fumbling to quickly throw off your coat so they could find you again, pushing you forcefully back against the wall and holding you there, his hands clasped with yours as he mashed his lips against your own.

You relished in the feel of his body pressing into you, trapping you against the cool wall behind you. You were getting that strange sensation, as though he could not be close enough, that any distance between you two at all was too much. He reached up to undo your ponytail, letting your hair fall in wavy tresses around your shoulders. Then his hands slip beneath your shirt to grasp the bare skin of your back, making their way to undo the clasp of your bra, feeling your breasts underneath. His expert fingers worked their way around the front, bunching up your shirt above your stomach, stroking your breasts and cupping them. He stops touching you and kissing you only long enough to reach down to unbutton the long row of buttons marching down your shirt, giving him easier access.

"I miss this," you uttered softly, "I miss us."

He grins upon hearing you say that, "You won't have to anymore. I'm going to stop by every chance I get." he whispered hoarsely. You felt a small explosion of happiness in your chest at those words. He began to work steadily south, his mouth trailing hard kisses with a hint of teeth down your neck and to your shoulders while he trailed his hands down from your torso to slip under your skirt instead, pulling at your tights. The sheer fabric of your tights clings to your legs so he bends down, both of his hands up your skirt to slide the tights off you, letting his fingers trail after the fabric as he did. You shivered as the air hit your bare legs.

"I need to feel how fucking wet you are for me, I know you're already soaked." he tells you, his voice in a deep and rolling growl.

He slides his hands back up to snag your panties, letting them fall in a puddle around your feet. You feel your breath catch, your heart picking up speed again as this particular barrier fell away. He straightens himself back up, smiling mischievously at you, and you can't help but giggle. His lips are back on the nape of your neck, continuing the work they'd begun before, causing your laugh to fall away into more of a gasp and a moan as you gripped at the back of his shirt. He slips his hands down your torso one more time, giving your breasts a firm squeeze, and then dipped one hand below again, bunching your skirt up against your leg slightly as his spindling fingers inched their way up the inside of your thigh tantalizingly.

"Please fuck me with your fingers, Jerome." you blurted out, "I-I… It's been too long."

"Aw, when you ask so nicely like that, I don't see how I could say no." he chuckled darkly. He finally stroked your opening, drawing a sharp intake of breath from you, he grinned, pressing himself against you.

"So fucking wet. Gee, what am I to do with you?" he laughed again with that grin still on his face. Under the fabric of his pants, you could feel his erection hard against your leg, and you grinned right back.

"You're one to talk," you quipped. But you were barely able to get the comeback out before you cut yourself off with a gasp again. He dipped his fingers further into you, swiftly rolling your clit between them and then pulling back out, only to plunge right back in. He worked them against you, beckoning you to come more with his fingers and you rocked against him in response. Your arms splayed our to your sides on the wall behind you, trying to breathe deeply but every so often letting out a barely stifled yelp of delight.

"This wet pussy missed me, isn't that right? It's begging to be fucked again and again by me." he purred, "You're squeezing my fingers so much, always so well behaved for me. That's why you're my favorite."

Your rocking motions become jerkier and your breathing more frenzied as he thrust his fingers inside you. He's watching your face hungrily, reveling in your pleasure. You feel a knot of tension increasing below, building until your first orgasm of the day washed over you with a strangled cry. His pleased eyes never leaving your face so he can drink in every expression of ecstasy.

You felt like your legs might give way with the rush of endorphins and began to sink down against the wall, but he pulls you back against him playfully, letting you catch your breath momentarily and then kissing you again.

"Now, now, Y/N, you know that was only a shallow one. I think we can do better." he said with a loud laugh and he has you back up against the wall again, kissing you with new vigor. You feel yourself re-awaken again almost immediately, though mere seconds ago you might not have thought it possible. You reach down clumsily to undo the belt and zipper of his pants, and he assists you by finishing the job, finally freeing his pulsing erection.

You moved your hands down to stoke it, to draw it into you because you can't wait another second, but he catches you by both of your wrists, trapping them against the wall in his grip.

"Tsk tsk, you're an impatient one, huh doll?" he teased, "Keep your hands up for me." he told you huskily, his voice low. You obeyed, keeping your arms firmly against the wall on either side of your head and closing your eyes as he quickly sank his member inside you.

"Ah fuck, Jerome!" you cried out softly. He reaches behind you, stroking your ass and then your thighs, drawing your legs up around him to straddle your waist while your back and arms stayed against the wall. You feel the angle become easier and he sinks more deeply inside you, filling you entirely, and making you emit moan after moan.

"Oh shit, it's just like I remembered it. Fuck. You're just as tight." he grunted. Slowly, holding you up with the combination of the wall and his own strength, he begins to move in and out of your wet heat, causing new spasms of pleasure each time he did. He supported your legs around him seemingly effortlessly, pushing in and out of you as you bucked against him, following his motions. You could feel the beginnings of the tension building up below again, this time more gradually, but stronger, somehow. Deeper. You loved the feel of him inside of you, loved how well he fit right into you, and you couldn't help but cry out as the tightness continued to mount. Both of your movements began to quicken and you could feel your shirt slipping from around your shoulders, the buttons hanging uselessly as both sides had opened up to expose the rest of your torso, your bra dangling there loosely, having slid down to reveal your breasts bouncing rhythmically with the rolling of your hips.

Part of you dimly wished you'd gotten his shirt off, but then again you also got an odd sort of pleasure at being exposed to him when he was still mostly clothed. Every so often you caught glimpses of his beautiful face racked with concentration, occasionally interrupted by his own spasms of pleasure. Your speed was increasing and the movements were becoming more erratic now.

As the frantic motions and your building pleasure became too much to bare, his strength finally gave way. Your resolve broke and you tore your arms from the wall to wrap them around him as you both fell to the ground together, his full weight landing on top of you. Your connection had broken for a second, but he was quick to change that and he hurriedly plunged himself back into you, beginning to work even faster now. You both jerked and strained, you lifted your legs, wrapping them around his torso, even higher so you could feel him inside you all the way to your core.

"I.. Jerome, I can't—" you barely managed to get out.

"Oh, just let me have it already, Y/N. Give it to me. I need it all over my cock." he uttered in a loud whisper, almost begging for it.

He scraped a nail across your nipple, before bringing his hand between your legs and pinching your clit. You screamed, and the world seemed to disappear around you. All that was left was both of your bodies smacking against one another and the blood thundering through your veins, and the way you felt him shake as he followed you over the edge.

The rising ecstasy became even more intense, your moaning began to increase as well, becoming louder and wilder as you lost control of your vocal chords in the rush. When the orgasm finally hit, you thought you'd never felt anything so deeply in every cell of your body before. It washed over every inch of you. Seconds later, you heard him emit a final moan as well, his breathing and his hips against you slowing down until he came to a stop.

You kept fluttering around his member, drawing out his orgasm further, but you couldn't breathe anymore. His head dropped down to rest against your breath, panting heavily into your hot skin. He stayed inside of you until his member got too soft and slipped out. He starts laughing and wipes the sweat off his forehead, still laying on top of your body. You're quivering against him, staring at the ceiling for a few moments, and letting complete and utter contentment wash over you.

Though, you know you're damned because he's the last person you should be having sex with, but at the same time you couldn't care less. You discovered that you still wanted him just as much as you did before, despite his criminal ways.

"How's that for my grand entrance?" he asked as he lowly panted.

"Oh god, Jerome." you shook your head and giggled, "I… did you really mean what you said? About liking me that much?" you feel a rush of heat blossoming on your cheeks as you looked back at him. You're about to say more but he silences you with a kiss. He's grinning widely when he pulls away from you, snickering to himself.

"Maybe. Don't know how I can say no to these tits and this pretty little pussy that's always begging for me." he whispers as he moves his hand below your stomach and he leans in to press his mouth against your ear, "Now, tell me everything that you've been fantasizing about since I've been gone.


	3. You're Not Here

You snapped awake. The room was dark, the night sky still black and dense with clouds hiding the moon and stars. The only source of light was the warm glow of half dead embers in your fireplace. Your heart was pounding. You tried to draw your knees towards your chest but your sheets were cold and damp and twisted around your legs. The restriction agitated your nerves, and you pulled yourself forward quickly, fumbling with clammy hands to free yourself from the strangling threads.

An icy draft hit your face with a sting that let you know your forehead was layered with perspiration. A cold bead of sweat rolled down your back from the nape of your neck causing you to shudder and your fingers to work quicker, grasping and tugging at the stubborn damp sheets. Anxiety continued to build in your chest and...

Jerome's face was suddenly in front of you. His pallid skin blinding against the sunlight. A dry brown river of blood coated the side of his face. His auburn hair ruffled and hanging over lifeless eyes, dry and staring off into the middle distance.

You ripped your legs free and swung them over the side of the bed, grabbing at your eyes as though you could block the image from your view. A low whine escaped from somewhere deep in your throat, and you turned your head to stare into the orange embers of the fire, hoping to burn the image from your mind by replacing it with something real.

It was too dark. You stood up and hastened towards the fireplace. Grabbing a log from the stack, you tossed it atop the embers, setting it alight before it landed in a splash of ash and sparks. You sank to the floor and stared into the flames.

It was his face that had sent you clawing your way out of the fade. It wasn't really him, of course.

You weren't there when he died. You weren't there. You couldn't know how slowly or painfully it happened. You couldn't know what exactly his final moments were like. The only thing you were sure of, for all of them, was that it was violent.

You dropped your head into your hands and groaned.

"Stop, stop, stop. Just stop thinking about it–what is wrong with you?" you pleaded with yourself.

But your mind felt stuck, spinning with images and guilt and an anxiety that sat at the center of your stomach, making you feel ill.

The ginger was plaguing your dreams. Every night that you were able to catch even a little of shuteye. He was almost always grinning in them, even with his blood stained face, and then there were times where he was utterly silent, completely unlike himself while he just stared at you lifelessly waiting for you to scream yourself awake. There were times when you were just going about your day, trying to read a book or watch a TV show through drained red eyes, and then he would appear right next to you, asking if you missed him or not, if you were thinking about him. This had to end.

You couldn't believe the day it all started, there were no words to properly describe the depth of your despair in that one, soul-shattering moment when you heard on the news that Jerome Valeska was dead. Theo Galavan murdered him on the night of his big show at the gala. You realized in that moment your whole world came crashing down because he had become your whole world, as pathetic as it was. In what must have been only weeks but felt like years, he'd gotten under your skin, made you challenge everything you thought you knew, sparked in you more emotions than you had ever thought it possible to feel. You never forgot how excited he was that day, going on and on about how he was going to be a star, how Theo was his ticket to stardom. He told you to wish him good luck before he went, but you refused because you had a bad feeling about it the whole day, you knew that his crazed lifestyle would get him killed one day, and sure enough you were correct.

The citizens of Gotham had all hated him, that you were sure of, and in theory you should have done the same, but luck was never on your side. It was just like this cruel world to make you fall in love with a boy who was every kind of 'cidal' you could think of. You should have resented someone like him. You shouldn't have ever wanted to associate with him. Yet here you were, unable to catch sleep because of him, feeling a burning ache in your chest that persisted night after night.

You loved him. And even if it wasn't too late, even if he was still alive and giving you the occasional look with those swirling pits of crazy that he called eyes, you could never have made it work. You turned over your shoulder reluctantly, to see if he was there, and when you caught sight of his red hair, immediately you felt yourself flinch then turned back to the fireplace, taking a deep breath. Just take another sleeping pill, just take another one, and you'll be fine, you told yourself repeatedly.

You should have left. You should have left Gotham that day before he made his way back into your life, and stopped you. It would have prevented you from getting sucked back in, the killing of his mother was a sign to stay away, that was and had always been the first warning sign, but you found yourself forgetting every bad thing he ever did when he was with you, because as much as he spent his days murdering dozens of citizens (or as much as he could) during the day, he spent his nights with you, making you laugh and smile, to put it simply. Whenever you heard about his heinous crimes on the news, all you could think about was how selfish you were for pretending like it all didn't exist, like you weren't with a murderer whenever you two were together.

"Hey dollface, don't try to miss me too much while I'm gone tonight, ya hear me?"

The memory of his voice rang inside your mind.

It had been over a month since you had lost him and the pain was still searing through you like a knife to the stomach each and every hour that you lived. You tried to remind yourself that he would mock you if you ever cried in front of him. His maniacal laughter echoing in the room when you felt the tears build up so you fought against it.

You had to stop the memory of him, sleep was more important than him. He was a killer, and he didn't love you. That's what you had to tell yourself every night. You swallowed another sleeping pill down, hoping this time it would work, because he was gone, and you had to accept that. Tomorrow would be a better day. It would be, you just had to tell yourself that again and again until you could believe it, and you drifted off to sleep that night getting actual sleep, for once. Maybe you were in the clear. Maybe he was going to stop haunting your dreams.

You pushed the key into the lock, twisting it the wrong way, cursing at it, and then you got it right after the second attempt. You kicked the door shut behind you, wishing that the sound of the wood shaking on its hinges would make you feel any better.

It was a goddamn bitch of a day. You spent several hours acting like everything was fine when you were out with your friends, and you thought if you kept acting like it was then soon enough it would be, or at least you hoped. Four long strides and you were in the kitchen, crouching over an open fridge and glaring at it as if you could, by sheer force of will, make more beers materialize on the empty, plastic shelves. It wasn't like you couldn't afford to get more, but it was probably warmer in the freezer than it was outside.

You grabbed the last, lone beer and popped the cap off on the counter. You were halfway through it, downing it in thirsty gulps, when that little voice in the back of your mind reminded you Jerome wouldn't like that. That stopped you. You put down the beer because you weren't sure what Jerome wouldn't like–the boots on the carpet, using the granite counter top to open your beer, hell even the way you slammed the door.

But none of that mattered, because he wasn't not here, he hasn't been for a while now.

You sat at the kitchen table, polished wood with just two chairs, and sipped your beer. You thought about leaving again, but then you wondered what was the point if you stayed or didn't, you figured he would follow you even if you went to a whole different city in another country, he would still show up in your dreams or somewhere at your side, taunting you.

You threw the beer bottle across the small kitchen into the bin after you finished, crashing against the rest of the six pack. There were takeout containers towards the bottom of the bin, you were sure. You just had vague memories of eating.

"Are you going to sulk all night? Bo-ring."

You didn't jump or scream, you were too well trained. But it wasn't enough to stop the way your breathing hitched, the way your hairs on the back of your neck stood up, the way the corner of your eyes prickled.

You tried to have this hallucination before, not a week after his death, when the loss still felt like a bleeding wound and not just a phantom limb, you had broken your first rule and gotten your hands on something this ginger swore up and down would make you see things. You had wanted him and just got the fucking war, and hadn't tried it again since, but that didn't stop him from stopping by.

"You're too much in your head," he said, calm like he had any right to be here and not in a box somewhere. "You walked right past me. I've been sitting on that couch right over there, waiting for you to come home."

You blinked your eyes repeatedly then shut them, telling yourself again and again that he wasn't there.

"What the fuck is wrong with me?" you muttered under your breath, and the ginger merely laughed in response.

"Nothing's wrong with you dollface," he chuckled with a wide grin before he added, "nevermind scratch that, there is something wrong, and it's because you're not here hugging me and screaming that you missed me."

He leaned against the wooden frame, hands in his pockets, looking anything but dead. His suit was dark, fit well enough, and he was wearing a tie you hadn't seen before. His hair was slightly longer than you remembered, but there was the same Cheshire-cat grin and those same dark eyes, and it's Jerome, here and very much alive.

"You're supposed to be dead," you said, finding your voice. It was sour from the beer but it only wavered slightly, and you were proud of that.

"I tried to get back earlier," he went on to say, waving one hand languidly like this was a normal conversation. "But I was stuck at that funky place called Indian Hill, what a fucking nightmare that was, at first anyway, they brought me back so maybe it's not fair to complain so much about all the times they poked me with syringes and whatnot," he snorted before he continued laughing. "I just had to see you though, dollface, I had to come back for you, just to see how you've been doing without me, and I was going to ask if you missed me, but it's clear that you've done much more than just miss me," he teased, his laugh increasing in volume.

"Stop it," you spat and added, "You're not here."

You clenched your jaw, and he just nodded, like he couldn't understand how you didn't comprehend something so simple. "I'm very much here, very much alive, and very much in your kitchen, the exact kitchen that we have fucked in several times before," he cackled.

You were up in a heartbeat, charging over to him. But before you could figure out what you wanted to do when you were over there, he leaned in to press wet open-mouthed kisses upon your neck, that felt as real as when he was alive. "I'm here, dollface, and I came back to reclaim what's mine," he told you through whispers as he continued to caress your skin with his sweet kisses, "Don't make me pinch you doll, I thought you'd be happy to see me."

It took a moment for the words to sink in. Jerome was here, and he was kissing you, and the idea that nothing had changed made you so anxious and hopeful that the feeling of it hurt more than you thought it would.

"I've missed you, especially your pretty little voice crying my name, not a day went by that I didn't think of it," he murmured, and you thought to yourself that maybe this wasn't real, but it felt more real that any of the other times you hallucinated his presence, so you thought maybe you should be grateful for that.

"You can't be here," you whispered to yourself, and he laughed again.

"Just get down on your knees," he growled out.

You dropped to your knees with a dull thud, hands clasped behind your back. The tile was unrelenting, but the familiar pain grounds you. You looked forward, eyes at his knees, hidden behind black wool.

"You don't get to do this," you jutted your chin up. You knew the position you were in, what it was supposed to mean, but you couldn't stop the words. "You don't get to just show up here whenever it's convenient for you," you told him. You didn't feel the tears, but there was a lump in your throat that threatened to choke your words. "They all said you were dead."

He narrowed his eyes at you, dark and unreadable. "They did say that huh?" he chuckled but then quickly snapped, "Did I say you could talk?"

You wanted to say more, ask why he was haunting you, why he wouldn't leave you alone, and how you could make it stop but the longer you were on your knees, the more your body remembered how much it needed this, this total surrender. You ran your tongue around your mouth, seeking out the last flecks of beer. "No, you didn't," you whispered, looking back down at his knees, and you could hear the slippery snick of him undoing his tie.

He leaned down over you, urging your mouth open with his thumb before forcing part of the tie into it. He moved to stand behind you, knotting the tie at the base of your skull so that it could be both a gag and a lead. He tugged at it, and you moaned softly, couldn't help yourself.

Your moan was rewarded with a, "good girl," and damn it was enough to feel that pulsing heat between your legs again. With his free hand, he carded his fingers through your hair, and you leaned back into the touch, greedy and desperate. But it was just a dream, only a dream, the most realistic one of the ginger you were ever going to get. There was no way he could really be here.

"But you haven't been an entirely good girl, have you?" he asked, with that flippant tone of voice he uses when he asks a question he already knows the answer to. "There's something different about you, like you've been lost without me, but you don't have to be anymore," he decided, tugging at your hair. He scattered his fingers about your hair, and you closed your eyes so you could soak it all in.

It was when those deft fingers worked their way down to the nape of your neck that you braced yourself. "But fuck, I have missed you," he drawled, dragging his sharp nails down the back of your neck. Then the hand was gone. "You can't keep living this way, c'mon doll, it's pathetic seeing you mope around, I trained you better than that."

You whimpered from behind the makeshift gag, which only made him tug at it again. You wanted to argue that you thought he was dead, that he is dead, but you couldn't decide if it was an excuse or a reason, though it didn't matter. He had you gagged and so you didn't even have to think about what to say, or if it would be right or wrong, so you just nodded.

Jerome made a pleased noise. "So you haven't forgotten everything, have you?"

You shook your head as much as the tie would let you, and tried to focus on the steadiness of your breathing, the weight of the silk tied around your mouth, the fact that it was Jerome doing all of this. You wanted to ask, to turn around and claw your way into the secrets he kept, into Jerome himself. But he was right, you were better trained than that, and dear lord did you need this.

He ruined the end of the makeshift lead through his fingers, and you wondered if you were getting used to the feel of it, too. You never knew if he got something from these games, well you knew he got some twisted sense of joy from it, but the idea asking how much it affected him felt like it would shatter what you two had, like this fantasy you both created for yourselves couldn't hold up against the weight of reality.

"I should have gotten back earlier," he repeated, softer now, as if he was just speaking to himself. You would give anything to see what look he had on his face. He stepped to the side, and you opened your eyes so that you could see him out of your peripheral vision. The tie shifted around your head and the fabric moved down from around your mouth to around your neck.

Jerome didn't say anything for almost a minute, and you knew you were being looked at, examined, but for what you didn't know.

"Follow me into the bedroom," he ordered, and your body sang. It was one of his favorite orders, or at least you assumed it was from how frequently he gave it. Anything to help remind you who you belonged to, and who you still belonged to. He stepped towards the bedroom and tugged on the tie again. You followed behind on your hands and knees, it was awkward at first, but then your body relaxed into it. He kept giving orders in the same even, distant voice: into the bedroom, clothes off, on your hands and knees.

You looked over your shoulder and saw him looking down under the bed. You knew you shouldn't, that it was against the rules, but you were worried that if you took your eyes for a moment, he would disappear, fade away like a dream was supposed to end. He came back up with a plastic container in his hands. "I was wondering if I would still find this here," he said in an amused tone. You watched him drag a finger across the top of the box, examining the dust on the tip of his finger, and then made a disgusted face. "You know better than this. Face forward."

You did as you were told, from what you could hear, he went through the box and was now rummaging through your closet and oh-

You heard him testing the riding crop against the palm of his hand. You remembered the day when he bought that for you, or not bought but stole because he was obsessed with showing you who was in charge, and you remembered how you weren't able to sit properly for days after that, but you loved it.

"You haven't moved anything," he noted, hitting his own palm again with the crop. "How many do you think you deserve?"

"As many as you think, Jerome," you told him softly. It didn't even matter anyway, because it wasn't real.

"Very good," he said, impressed, and you smiled down onto the bed. That was one answer you hadn't forgotten. He tore off your skirt along with the panties underneath in a hurry, throwing them somewhere across the room. He was touching your ass with firm rubs, fingers prodding, checking. And then the touch was gone. "Ten," he said, and "you're going to count."

"Only ten?" you asked. And you knew-Jerome knew-that you could take more than that. The response from Jerome was a swift smack on your ass with the crop, hard and unexpected. You yelped, more from surprise than the pain. "You will take what I give you, dollface," he said, drawing the end of the crop over the place he just hit. "Now count."

You waited for a moment, seeing if he would give you another one, before you begrudgingly counted off, "one."

The next three were wonderful, the pain more pleasure than anything else, even though he wasn't holding back. By the time you counted off to five, it was almost too much, and at the sixth you could feel your sex leaking onto the bed, but with your face in the pillow and your arms behind your back you couldn't do anything about it.

Another hit.

"Seven."

"Who do you belong to?" he asked suddenly, and the question caught you off guard.

You were about to say the number but you switched to, "you, only you," you told him breathlessly, and it was true, you still felt like you were his girl even after his death, he still had a hold on you, and you hated it but that didn't make it any less true.

Silence permeated the room. There was no sound of riding crop against skin, or of you counting. In the silence, you could hear him breathing, but before you could dare to look behind yourself, he was already giving another order.

"On your back," he demanded.

You complied, wincing slightly as you felt the bedding move against the now raw flesh of your ass. Your arms went up above your head, reaching toward the corners of the bed, instinctively.

He hummed again, "Good girl," he praised, running a hand through your hair again. You smiled softly as he did, because all you wanted was for him to keep touching you, and that he wouldn't leave before it was too late.

You watched, and when he went to go check the corners of the bed looking for the restraints, he smiled wider than he had all day.

"You kept them?" he asked, locking your wrist into the contraption onto the headboard with a stolen pair of handcuffs. His hand lingered over the metal for a moment, as if thinking about the last time you two did this, or maybe he was remembering the conversation that led to the need for them, but you didn't ask.

You tugged at the restraints, just slightly. You didn't need to test them, you knew they would hold. But you needed to feel the bite of metal against your wrists, remind yourself that you couldn't get out of these. Not until he wanted you out of them. You wanted your mind to remember as much as your body already had.

He gave you a look like he wanted an answer as he moved to the other side of the bed to do up your other wrist.

"I miss you, please come back," you said finally in response. You didn't want to think anymore, didn't want to answer any more questions. Maybe that's why you always did this with him so you didn't have to think at all. You trusted him to do this before you even knew you wanted it, and he had taken to it so naturally, as if it was easy as tying a tie or organizing a heist.

He hummed in response, and you hoped to God that was the right answer because now you were naked and tight and so ready for him to touch you. He doesn't, though, he just kept looking at you and it was driving you mad. But all that mattered was that he was here, and the way the room looks with him in it makes up for everything else, because he only belonged here with you.

"I'm here, stop looking at me like a wounded puppy," he chuckled, amused.

You bit your lip and just nodded your head, even though you knew it was a lie. You watched as he started to undress himself, his shirt going first, one button after the other, and you leaned up off the bed as far as you could so you could keep watching. He untucked his shirt from his trousers and then let it fall to the floor. You felt yourself getting impatient, he needed to hurry up so this wouldn't end so you tugged on your restraints again.

"Move again, and I will leave," he snapped, voice hard.

You stilled instantly, and he went back to removing his clothes, kicking off his shoes recklessly then pulling off his socks, and finally undoing his trousers.

"You can't leave," you thought, but you knew better than to say it. He always followed through on his threats.

He stepped out of the trousers, then let it fly across the room before it hit something in its path. Only then did he approach the bed to join you, immediately greeting you by straddling your thighs. He didn't do anything, so you opened your mouth to-

He dragged his nails down your chest, leaving ten bright red lines that stopped just before your hips and making you wince immediately. "I ordered you not to move," he said, hands on your hips, and you closed your mouth. There was another beat of silence, as you watched his eyes move down the fresh red lines of your body. "This as good as you've been getting since I've been gone?" he asked and then quickly added, "Answer me."

You almost wanted to laugh at that. "No, Jerome. There's been no one but you," you admitted. As if anyone could compare to this, to Jerome. Not that there hasn't been numerous offers, but you kept that to yourself. Screw the others, you only found relief to the memories of him, nothing else could satisfy you then, and you didn't even see the point in being with anyone else that wasn't him.

"Well," he said, with a dark chuckle, "good."

He squeezed your hips, and you canted them, not being able to help it, and the movements made him swoop down to bite you on your shoulder hard enough to make you wonder if he drew blood. It wouldn't be the first time, and even though it was meant to be a punishment you groaned.

"You're wasting time," he scolded into your ear. But even as he said it, he was pressing kisses down your neck, nipping at the sensitive skin. "Next time," he said, as he pulled away from your neck, "we can do this properly."

You didn't have time to dwell on those words because as soon as he was sitting up he was removing his underwear, shimmying out of them with a gracelessness that you found unreasonably hot. Finally, he was bare, naked and hard, and what you wouldn't give to have that member in your mouth again. He reached his hand out suddenly, toying with your swollen clit with a finger, back and forth, up and down, gathering up your juices to lather you up everywhere. Your back arched off the bed, and he just snickered.

"Need to keep you on your toes, like I always do," he said, and you moaned in response. The pressure on your sex felt so good, but not good enough, not like the way it felt to have him inside you.

"You took so long getting home," he said so casually, despite the dark look in his eyes. "You know, I can't stay all day here."

And that was the only warning you got before he shifted, positioning himself above your sex before he sank down with a euphoric ease.

"Yes," he hissed, once he was fully inside of you. All you could was moan, tug on the restraints, too gone for actual words. "Missed this," he said, voice tight, as he lifted himself up just enough to thrust back down again. He threw his head back, mouth open for a silent moan.

"More," you pleaded, and you knew you would finish too fast if you watched the pleasure contort his features but you didn't want to look away from this. His smirk widened when you said that, and everything felt so right. Jerome was here, in control, happy, and with you. You tried to thrust your hips up but the angle was off and you barely could, but it got his attention all the same.

"Come on, dollface," he uttered around a growl. "Tell me how much you missed this."

And you almost didn't want to, didn't want to give him the satisfaction of pressing his thumb into that open wound while he fucked you, but then he dropped down so that his hands were on your shoulders, nails digging into the skin, fucking you in earnest, and you threw your head back.

"Fucking missed this," you groaned out, not even sure where to start, not when his words were punctuated with the slick slapping of his skin on yours, of him fucking you as if he never left. "Missed you. I needed you-need you," you corrected, because he wasn't dead, he was right here, and you finally found yourself starting to believe that he wasn't going to leave again.

His thrusts became more erratic, and you could feel your own orgasm closing in on him, a wave ready to crash on the shore that you wanted to ride out longer than you knew you could. You lasted only a few more thrusts before you came harder than you had in the last time you two were able to do this with his name on your lips. He followed shortly after, filling you up inside completely until you were leaking down with his come.

It took all of two seconds for him to catch his breath, and then he was pulling off of you. He moved like he wanted to stand up, but stumbled and instead fell on the opposite side of you on the bed. He was quick to unlock the restraints, setting your hands free, and planting the set of handcuffs to the side. The afterglow, the dull and fading pain in the spots where Jerome hurt you mixed with the intense pleasure, felt too good to be just a dream.

He snuggled up next to you, with one hand braced on the edge of the bed. He was gorgeous like this, so gorgeous, you thought. Pale face flushed, strands of red hair falling in front of his face, perfect skin such a contrast to the way he always marked up yours. Seeing Jerome like this always made you thought of a four letter word that, even with everything you both did, had never been part of your repertoire. You stared at him in silence, this was real, it was all real, it had been real since the moment he made his way in here. You blinked your eyes again and again, because you expected to wake up from this dream, and it only made Jerome cackle out loud as he watched you. It couldn't be possible, no, he was dead, but then you remembered what he said before you two had sex, about someplace called Indian Hill.

"I came back for you, doll, I'm really back, and I'm here to stay, that's for damn sure, now that death couldn't even stop me," he scoffed, and you continued to gaze at him with your mouth agape, still not believing that he was really here, but he was.

"Jerome," you breathed, trying to find the words to say as he watched you patiently as you struggled with it. "It's really you."

He rolled his eyes playfully before he replied, "Hasn't that been what I've been saying all this time? Did I still need to pinch you? I thought that orgasm would be enough to prove that I'm really here," he shook his head as he continued to mock you but you couldn't hear a word because your thoughts deafened you for several moments, and all you could think of was that he came back. He continued babbling on about how stupid you were but it only fell on deaf eyes before you grabbed hold of both of his cheeks, planting a firm kiss upon his lips for that extra reassurance, and he kissed back eagerly, groaning quietly when you explored his mouth with your swift tongue, fingers caressing every inch of his cheeks as you held them tighter.

"Don't you ever fucking leave me again," you told him, voice breathless and lips bruised after crushing them against his own.

He smirked and snickered when he said, "Never again," before he gripped the back of your head and closed the gap between your lips once again, this one being more passionate and you felt every bit of his longing for you in it.

As you kissed him, you thought back to the first time you had sex in a tent back at the circus then to this day, and how he was no longer haunting your dreams, he was actually here, for real, with you, and he wasn't going anywhere. You thought back to every encounter you ever had with the ginger, and how he made sure every second spent was filled with utmost excitement, that you would never be bored with him, and he certainly succeeded in it, especially in how he made his way back to you, by cheating death apparently. You didn't know how exactly he did it but you felt that it could wait until you found it in you to stop kissing him, which wasn't going to be for a while.


End file.
